In the King's Shadow
by E.J.C.Graves
Summary: A story following the Need for Speed Most Wanted and Carbon storylines. About a racer who has fled from Bayview City because of the Police and he plans on following the Street King the protagonist for through NFSU2, NFSMW, and NFS Carbon . He arrives in Rockport to find the race scene in shambles...
1. Chapter 1

The steady roar of the engine resonated into the cockpit of the Civic as he sped along the interstate. He was bound for any city but the one he had just came from. All of a sudden, the cops had suddenly became concerned that their jurisdiction had become overrun by racers and started cracking down. It had started thirty two days before when they had busted some of the head racers and had escalated to where if anyone was in a suspicious car, it was impounded and they were arrested. Bayview had turned into a hell hole.

He had head rumors that the "Street King had left months before in search of a new town to rule. The King had fled to the east coast, supposedly; so that's where he was headed.

He shifted up a gear and noticed his gas meter was almost on empty. He pulled off on the next exit and coasted into a nearby gas station. He pulled up to one of the pumps and stepped out of the car. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his brown leather wallet. He flipped it open and slipped out his debit card and was about to insert it into the card slot on the pump but stopped just before he did. He retracted his hand and looked at the card. He figured that it was better if he didn't use it, just in case the police were possibly tracking it. He closed his car door and walked inside of the station and bought a Monster BFC energy drink and a pack of Twix. He walked up to the counter and set them down. He grabbed a Five Hour Energy shot and asked the cashier to ring it up with thirty dollars for pump five. The older woman behind the counter nodded and rang it up and charged him thirty eight dollars and ten cents. He thanked her as she put his stuff in a bag and walked out to pump his gas. As he stepped outside and began pumping the gas he remembered how he had been forced out of Bayview.

It had happened at noon earlier that day, he had been sitting down, eating his lunch when his cell phone rang. He didn't answer it in time and received a voicemail. Instinctively, he picked it up and listened. It was the exasperated and panicked voice of one of his fellow racers screaming at him to run, because the cops were making a raid on his house that hour. He was told that they almost caught Rachel Teller and other big shots. His friend explained that he was currently running from the cops on foot. He then had heard the sounds of voices yelling over the phone to stop running and put the phone down. There was a sharp click as the line had been disconnected. The next thing he did was sprint to his living room window and looked outside. He head sirens in the distance that were drawing closer. He turned and ran to his bedroom, grabbed his butterfly knife and his Kershaw flip knife. He reached under his bed and grabbed a black plastic case. He set it on top of the bed and opened it. Inside was a Walther P22 pistol and two magazines. It was really, in other people's opinion, under powered for a Walther, but to him a .22 pistol could do enough damage to put someone into a hospital. He grabbed the magazines, slid one into the handle and stuck the other in his pocket. He put the gun on safety, even though no round had been chambered, and jammed the gun into the back of his belt. He grabbed a T-shirt, hat, sunglasses and a pair of black Dickies cargo shorts. He ran down to his garage, dumped it all into his back seat and ran back to grab what ever he could. He got his laptop, charger and accessories. He glanced over at his Xbox 360 and was torn. He had just bought it and had gotten all the Achievements on COD Modern Warefare 2. He was frozen… He finally ran back down, deposited the laptop and went back to get it. He found a space to put it into his trunk without hitting any of his sound system. He then pocketed his cell phone, but switched it off. He ran into the garage and grabbed some tools for his car, a pair of socks from his dryer and his keys. His heart had been beating almost out of his chest as he started the car and hit the garage remote. Thankfully he had filled the gas tank the night before. As the door lifted the entire way, he floored the pedal and blasted out of the garage. He looked into his side mirror and saw black and white patrol cars chasing close after him. He had never been so scared in his life…

Just recollecting it made his pulse spike as gas flowed from the nozzle of the pump and into his tank. Even though he was only nineteen, he felt like he had aged five years in the past six hours. He sighed loudly as the pump beeped and stopped. He got into his blue 1999 Honda Civic. He keyed the ignition and the engine roared to life. He drove slowly out of the station and back onto the interstate, heading East. Once he was at cruising speed he opened the Monster and took a sip from it. It was refreshing and brought a little energy back into him. He knew he couldn't stop now, it was now East Coast or bust.

As he drove along, he finished the Monster and ate the Twix bars. He was doing a steady 100 MPH, just to be safe as he figured that the state police were on the look out for racers exiting Bayview. Though he was well out of the county and city, he was still slightly paranoid. Trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible, he switched off the blue flashing underglow. As the sun went down he went as far as he could on the five hour energy shot and then went off the road and found an abandoned warehouse just off the main drag of a small highway town. He pulled the large, rusty doors shut after he parked inside. He got back inside the car and reclined his seat as far back as it could go. He fell right asleep.

**

He was woken up by a sharp rapping on his driver side window. He shook his head and sat up. He rolled down the window to find a revolver shoved into his face. "Get the hell out of the car!" the person in street clothes said loudly. As he reached for the door with one hand, with the other he hid his Kershaw knife into the long sleeve of the button up shirt he had worn the day before. He stepped out of the car and faced the guy, with his hands up. The knife was clipped onto the cuff of the shirt sleeve that was resting on the back of his hand. The other man grabbed his shirt and shoved him away from the car. "Your car is mine, Bitch!"

He stepped toward the carjacker, saying in a calm voice, "Hey, buddy, I'm sure we can work something out. But I need that car." The other man turned and smashed the wooden/metal grip of the pistol against his temple. He saw stars for a second as he fell to the floor. _This guy means business!_ He stood back up looked his attacker in the eye. The thief swung the gun at his head again, but was stopped with his left forearm. He flipped the Kershaw open and put it up to the other man's neck. He twisted his arm around the thief's and yanked up as hard as he could at the elbow joint. There was a sickening crunch as the joint broke and a clack as the thief dropped the gun. He picked up the gun and dropped all the bullets out of it and threw the gun across the warehouse. He quickly ran to the other man and dragged him by the neck of his clothes to the side opposite the gun. He closed the knife and he then sprinted to the warehouse door and pushed it open and got into the car and drove off as fast as he could.

He quickly moved back onto the interstate and sped along toward his destination. He stopped at a small diner when he got hungry and gassed up when he needed to. After five days of staying in parking garages and abandoned lots, he was almost to the east coast. He woke up on the fifth day to receive a message on his car's SMS. It was from Rachel Teller to all of the Bayview racers still out of jail. It read "This is Rachel, don't come anywhere near Bayview, I suggest you get out of the state like I did. Good luck to those out there." He touched the screen and sent a message back to her that read: Rachel, where did the King go, I think we all could have a better chance if we find where he is.

He drove Eastward for about an hour before there was a reply that read, "The last he spoke to me was about three months ago and he said that he was going to see what the racing scene was like in Rockport, Massachussets." He typed back a thank you and checked the GPS for Rockport. He set the destination and headed off.

**

He reached Rockport two days later. He drove through the downtown of the city marveling at the skyline and the general street set up. In his mind the city seemed to be built for racing. He stopped at a Burger King to get some food and came out to find two cops studying his car. He felt adrenaline rush to his body as he saw them. He walked up and said, "'Morning officers." One of them turned around and shook his hand and responded, "How are you. This is a nice Civic you have got here, it looks almost race worthy." He took a step toward the car after thanking the officer, but was stopped by the officer's hand. "You had better not be racing in this town, for your own good." On that note the cops walked off to their patrol cars and left. He ate his burger and fries and emptied the energy drink cans and junk food wrappers from the trip into a nearby garbage can.

Once satiated, he pulled out of the BK and started to head north to where the small suburban district of Rosewood was located. He reached Rosewood easily, even by obeying the speed limits. He reached a stoplight and a black 2006 Eclipse pulled up beside him. The window on the right side of the eclipse rolled down as the driver of the other car revved the engine and shouted over to him, "How much do you bet I could smoke you all the way to the fifth stoplight down the road?" He lowered his own window some more and turned down his stereo system to reply, "How much d'ya got?"

The other racer held up two Benjamins, so he pulled out two hundred from his wallet to match the other man's. He nodded and they looked forward to wait for the green light. He revved his engine, which was slightly louder than the Eclipse's due to the larger aftermarket exhaust. The car rumbled to the engine as it revved up and down.

After what seemed like an eternity, the light turned green. He threw it into gear and floored it. The torque on the wheels made them burn out, leaving two long black marks on the asphalt road. He flew forward shifting up when the Tachometer hit red and he sped across the stretch of straight road that was just over a quarter mile long. He out shifted and outraced the eclipse. Once he hit the fifth light, he slowed down and let the Eclipse catch up to him. They pulled off to a nearby parking lot and the guy driving the eclipse handed him the two hundred dollars and said, "Hey, dude, you race pretty good, I think you should meet some friends of mine." He agreed and followed him in the black eclipse to a rather large warehouse near the shipyards just outside of the Camden district. He waited inside of his Civic as the eclipse driver got out and knocked on the door of the warehouse. The door slid open and several men stepped out and looked over at him as the guy who drove the eclipse pointed over at him. Obviously they didn't quite agree, but after a short argument the skinny guy waved for him to follow in.

He drove in, and saw a huge interior filled with about thirty something street tuned cars, driven by both men and women. He followed the Eclipse and found an open spot for him to park. He exited the car, took the keys and waited. The guy got out of the Eclipse and said, "Yo, you've got to meet someone, so follow some more." He shrugged and obeyed. As the other man turned, he noticed that there was a tattoo of the Biohazard symbol on the man's right deltoid. He walked after the man and was brought before an average sized white guy who was fairly muscular and working on a black and red Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution. The skinny guy tapped him on the shoulder and said, pointing him out to the guy with the EVO, "Hey, this guy just out raced me during a drag from 54th to 59th street and beat me by about four seconds." The other guy turned around and smiled as he crossed his arms. He could almost feel the guy sizing him up and was squirming on the inside. The muscular guy said in a rough monotone voice, "So you smoked Johnny here? That's a pretty big accomplishment, considering he is usually good a drag racing. So you like racing, man?" He nodded, and shook the guy's hand. The other guy continued on in his monotonous voice, "You can call me Rog. That guy you beat is Johnny, and this is what's left of the Rockport racing scene, well at least for the next three to six months, depending on how many infractions the head guys got nabbed for. I take it you are good with cars, so you should fit in just fine here. So what do we get to call you?" Rog waited for a response, so he replied, "My name's Chris, Chris Evans." Chris shook Rog's hand and then Johnny's. Rog laughed and said, "Well, Chris Evans, welcome to Rockport! Here, I'll give you some heads-ups on what it's like here…"


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own any of the trademarked material in this story, Need for Speed is not owned by me. The songs and lyrics mentioned in this chapter are all owned and copyrighted by their respected owners. The lyrics of the songs are in bold. This is note based on real events; everything in this story is fictional.**

Chris walked next to Rog through the warehouse. They passed by tuners, muscles and exotics owned by people of all races. Rog tapped his shoulder and asked, "So which one of these rides is yours?" Chris pointed at the Civic, which was settled between Johnny's black custom Eclipse and a tricked out green RX8. He led Rog and Johnny over to it and popped the hood and turned on the lights and sound system. The blue neon underglow pulsated to the bass beat of the music along with the neon in the trunk and engine compartment. "Very nice," Rog commented as he walked around it, "It's a little plain, considering it has no vinyl on it and only the stock blue gloss paint, but it has a nice system in the back. What kind of horsepower does it put out?" Chris started the engine and revved it a little. He smiled and retorted, "I clocked it at 627 on a dyno, but who knows." Rog grinned and asked, "You in need of some cash for that paint job? Let's see what you've got." Johnny walked up and pushed some of his medium length brown hair out of his face. "I'll race him again." Rog shook his head and turned as someone approached them.

Chris had been reaching around in the back seat, hiding all that was left of his belongings. He turned around and saw a tanned, beautiful woman walk up in a miniskirt and tank top. _Hello, what do we have here?_ She walked up and looked over at Rog. Chris stepped out of the car and waited for what she had to say. She looked over at him and grinned, revealing a set of brilliant white teeth. "I'll race the new guy. Everyone needs some sort of initiation." Rog looked at her and then at Chris. He lowered the hood and pulled out a city map and spread it across it. "Ok, Lizzie, where do you want to do this?" She pointed at a section of road and drew her finger along a path that was fairly straight and led into the city. "Let's Drag first and then do a circuit around the Campus Circle." Rog nodded and walked over to Johnny. "Hey, get two fairly good racers to join in on this." Lizzie looked up and said, "No, John, let's keep it between me and him. Hey, New Guy, you up for this?" Chris nodded and watched as she stood up and walked off, probably to her car. Rog walked up to the front of the warehouse and grabbed a megaphone. "All racers! There is going to be a circuit race at Campus Circle! Meet us there in an hour." There was nodding from some in the crowd and others barely acknowledged it. Rog walked back over to Chris. "You do realize what you just got yourself into? Lizzie is one of the best racers in Rockport, she just isn't well known because she avoids cops. That's the only reason why she isn't on the blacklist." Chris looked back at him with a face of confusion. Johnny explained, "The Black list is a list of fifteen people who are the most wanted racers in Rockport. Rockport PD keeps tabs on all their cars, aliases, and safehouses. The racers on the blacklist are considered the best drivers in Rockport. They have their own crews and followings. In order to get up there, you need to complete races and get a bounty of a certain amount placed on you head by the cops. As of five days ago, the blacklist had two major rearrangements when the first racer on the blacklist was knocked off and then the new Most Wanted racer was forced to flee from town. Rog, in his absence assumed control as the guy who sets up race and temporarily runs the scene. The guy who got knocked off was only caught for excessive speeding and has only two more days in the hole. They didn't even impound his other rides, but all of his friends were caught. The guys on the black list now are only okay drivers, they aren't nearly as good as the last guys, but some of the older blacklist members, such as Sonny have regained their spots on the list. Even so, Razor was only knocked down one slot and since the last guy ran, that means he is still on top."

Chris nodded and walked around to his driver side door. He watched Rog fold the map up and stride up to him. "Get in the car and follow me, I'll show you where she wants to drag race. Just try to keep up." He got into the Civic and drove after Rog and the Lancer EVO. When they reached the onramp for the highway they pulled over to the side next to a dark purple '99 Supra TT that had a custom body kit and the black custom Eclipse belonging to Johnny. Chris stopped before a green line spray painted across the two lane on ramp. The Supra pulled up on his left and the windows rolled down. Lizzie motioned for him to roll down his window. When he did, Johnny walked between the cars and looked down at the drivers, "What's the wager today? How 'bout 1 K?" Lizzie nodded and handed over a thousand and Chris did the same. Johnny leaned into his window and patted him on the shoulder, "Baptism by fire, dude. Baptism by fire." He walked off as Rog took his place. "Okay people, standard drag. Stay in your lanes and race to the red lines at the end. I want this race to be clean, no ramming each other or cheating. Okay?" He grinned as he pointed at the two cars, "Drivers, ready! (both Lizzie and Chris nodded) 3… 2… 1… GO!"

Mia Townshend was sitting in her car, just thinking. She pulled onto the highway to go to Rosewood, just to see the safehouse, or what was left in it. Rockport had seized the safehouses, but all of the cars were still there. She remembered how surprised she had been when she found that he was still using the first safehouse, but it was for the better. As a UC officer, she had access to any seized safehouse. So far RPD had seized all of his old ones, but the Rosewood one. That one, his first one, was found by her and the police didn't know about it. She took the highway around the downtown loop and headed north. She had her police band radio on low. A street cop broadcasted suspicious individuals wearing symbols and colors affiliated with race crews heading toward campus circle slowly. She pulled out her cell phone and called Cross's partner who answered. "Officer Calhoun, this is UC Townshend, I will investigate the individuals headed for campus circle. Tell the street cops to back off." She had called Calhoun because Sergeant Cross took an immediate vacation after he had failed to catch the top of the blacklist. Mia knew Cross was a bounty hunter when he was not working for RPD. But Cross took three months off in order to chase the MW down. She turned off on an exit that merged with the Westward Crosstown highway and headed for the Stadium area…

Chris floored the accelerator and the Civic's wheels burned out, spraying smoke out from the wheel wells. The car lurched forward and threw him into the back of the bucket seat. He hit thirty-eight and shifted up. He was neck and neck with Lizzie. She changed lanes to the left and move _into_ oncoming traffic on the other side of the highway. _Oh my god! She's crazy!_ He pulled into the oncoming traffic after her. He accelerated past semis and cars in a test of his will and reflexes. Weaving through the torrent of vehicles, he gained a slight lead on her and looked over at her car. Suddenly her car started accelerating much more rapidly. He tapped a button on the backside his steering wheel and felt a bone jarring acceleration like a rocket being swapped out for his engine. The edges of his vision started to blur and whip by. He watched his NOS meter drain slowly as his speed gained. He jinked left and right, avoiding accidents by mere millimeters. Out of his blurred peripheral vision, he saw the Supra doing the same thing. He bared his teeth and gripped the wheel tighter as his speed hit 195. His engine was screaming at him to stop, but he continued to press on. He faintly saw two red lines painted on the other side of the of the highway, the side going the same direction he was. There was a gap in the median similar to the one he had crossed over through. He twisted the wheel to the right and crossed three lanes of traffic and safely rocketed through the opening at the same time as Lizzie. They were still tied for the win as they approached the finish line. They were both draining their NOS tanks as they roared across the lines. Chris was just a foot ahead of her at the end. They both slowed down to around a hundred miles per hour and she led him to Campus circle. Chris's SMS rang and he keyed the text message that popped up. _Looks like I owe you a thousand bucks…_

**  
Mia had been cruising at normal speeds down the west bound crosstown highway. She was going to check out these claims of racers at campus circle. Her radio rang. "_All units there are reports of two racers drag racing down the Westbound Crosstown Highway. Their speeds have been reported in excess of 100 miles per hour. They reportedly are going against traffic!" _ Mia smirked at the comment, it was fairly unusual for them to drag down the middle of a highway going the direction opposite of them. She thought it was ridiculous. _Whatever, these guys have no idea what they are talking ab— _Her thought were cut short by a blue Civic and a purple Supra. "Holy Shi—…" She whipped her car around through a gap in the median and drifted in a wide arc, narrowly avoiding traffic, and continued after the two racers who were about a quarter mile past her.

Chris pulled into campus circle doing the speed limit for the first time in what felt like forever. He glided up to the group of tuner and new muscle cars that were congregating around the parking lot across from the campus located between two plain buildings. He followed Lizzie up to the front of the group and watched as they parted when she drove up. She obviously was greatly respected with the group. She parked her car in a slot near Rog's. Chris pulled into the spot next to Johnny. He got out and walked to the center and looked back the way he had come. A red Mazda RX8 pulled into one of the spaces at the front, near the entrance. Rog walked up and asked, "So, who won?" He was answered when Lizzie pulled out a thousand dollars in cash and handed it to Chris. "How bout two grand for the next race, tough guy?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Chris nodded and Rog exclaimed, "Let's get this race going." Chris got back into the car and loaded up the map on his SMS and drove to the start positions marked on the street earlier. The crowd in the parking lot moved to the road to watch. Behind them a thin, pretty woman got out of the red RX8 and watched.

Chris sat in his car and watched as two more cars pulled onto the left and right side of him. Their drivers got out and put their two grand in the pot, which was held by Johnny. Rog walked up to the front of the group and yelled, "Ok, change in plans drivers, two more racers have joined and the prize money just got bigger. First place gets six grand and second gets two. This is a circuit race, three laps around the circle and no short cuts. Racers, ready, three, two, one, go!" Chris was last off the line and was far behind as Lizzie took the lead and the others in between. He shifted into second and turned up his stereo to blast music. The pumping bass beat of the techno flooded his ears. He started to gain on the guy in third. The other driver tried to block him off by staying in front of him. He saw the guy looking back into his mirrors instead of the road, so he got as close to his bumber as possible and stayed in his draft for a full lap. He could see anything the guy did through his un-tinted windows As they passed the lap line, the other guy glanced over to the crowd for a moment. Chris saw that it was his time to go; he pulled the wheel to the left and smoothly draft-passed the guy. The next guy was busy trying to take Lizzie's place. It was easy to for him to get next to him and look over at him. He shifted up a gear as the group of racers neared 175 mph around the huge circle drive. Eventually they got in a straight, horizontal line moving down the road. They all fought for first as they passed into the final lap. Chris looked forward to a merge lane that went to one of the highways and noticed a large pickup truck aiming to cross the road. He tapped the brakes and moved to the other side of Lizzie, which left a full car's space between the other guy and them. The truck didn't notice them coming and the other guy tried to avoid it, but his back end was clipped and he spun out. He collided with a large scaffold that held up various objectcts, which collapsed on top of the car. Chris blocked it out and kept racing. He and Lizzie roared toward the finish line and they both hit their NOS. Both of their cars jetted forward; but not for long, because their NOS tanks were already partially drained from the drag race. They shifted it up into sixth gear and blasted past the line with Lizzie in the lead. They did a cooldown lap and entered the parking lot. They stepped out of their cars and met in the center patch of the lot. Johnny stepped forward and gave them their money. "Looks like we're even," she said with a smirk."

There were the sounds of revving engines as the crowds congregating in the center parted. A white 1999 Mitsubishi Eclipse headed an entourage of two Toyota Celicas that drove in a V pattern up to the group Chris was standing with. A thin man of Asian descent stepped out of the eclipse. The man had to be in his mid to late twenties. A pair of large orientals stepped out of the matching Celicas and walked up beside him. Rog faced him and said, with a smile, "'Sup Sonny? Y' come to race with us today?" The leader stepped up to Rog and got in his face as the crowd went silent. "Rog, do you have a problem with your hearing? Or is it your memory. 'Cause I told you to never set foot on my turf again. Do it again and you'll go back to Camden in a body bag. You got that?" On that note, he shoved Rog to the ground and started to walk away. Chris yelled at the man's back, "Turf? I didn't know that a crew of three people could rule a place. I'm pretty sure that these streets are public property. Who are you to order people around?"

The guy turned around to face him. He started stalking toward him, saying, "What did you say to me, boy?" Chris didn't back down. "You heard me, who are you to order me around? Oh and by the way, nice car. I'm pretty sure that I could buy one with the money I just won from the last race. It doesn't even look that special. I mean, you have white paint, which just screams that it was the cheapest car you could find. It obviously isn't a car you're too familiar with, considering you had trouble downshifting on the way here. So this is what they were talking about when they said that the blacklist isn't nearly as good as it was." Sonny got in his face, shoved him against the hood of his cars and punched him in the face. "You never talk to a blacklist member like that." He started to walk away as Lizzie pointed out to Sonny that he was only 15 on the blacklist. Sonny reached forward and grabbed her forearm and was about to hit her when Chris charged him, slamming into his body as hard as he could. They both fell to the ground, arms swinging. Johnny ran to Chris and pulled him off of Sonny before his crew reached him. Chris struggled against him as Sonny stood up and wiped a trail of blood on his lip from his face. Chris broke free and rushed at him again. He retracted his arm to throw another punch, but was stopped when Sonny pulled out a small pistol and stuck it his face. They stood there for a few seconds. Sirens sounded in the distance, drawing closer. Sonny scowled as he put the gun away and said, "When you learn how to drive for real, talk to me about it, until then, keep your mouth shut or a bullet's gonna be put into it." He walked off to the Eclipse and drove out with his crew. Immediately after, the crowd panicked and scrambled to their cars to drive off. Tires started screeching as they burned out trying to escape. Chris stood there and watched from the middle of the lot as cars narrowly escaped colliding with each other. Chris got into his car and drove the opposite way as Rog and Johnny. Lizzie stayed by him for a minute or two but turned off onto the highway. By then the sun had gone down and the police were on top of him. He ducked into a small alleyway and drove down it. As he came out, he saw a red RX8 be boxed in by patrol cars and the female driver jump out and run. Several officers were on foot after her. Chris pulled out of the alleyway and screamed out of his window, "Get in quick!" he threw open the passenger door and she dove in, shutting the door after her. He gunned it, getting as far away from the police as he could.

They pulled onto the highway where a nondescript sedan started flashing with red and blue. Chris shifted up and crossed the median and went against the flow of traffic. He weaved in and out of traffic. Horns blared and whipped past with their cars. He watched with a matter of satisfaction as the cop behind him collided with another car and fell out of the chase. He pulled off at the next exit, still going the wrong way and moved onto the right side still speeding down the two lane streets of Rosewood. Normal patrol cars came out of the police station and started to pursue them. He sped through the streets, weaving throught parking lots and a gas station or two, but they were still on them. The girl in the seat next to him kept looking back at the police. "Reach into the glovebox for me." He said to her. She did and she gasped when she saw the Walther. She looked over with a look of concern. "You're not gonna shoot them, are you?" He shook his head and continued, "No, look under the gun, there should be a blank cd case. Put the disk in the player. She did and the first song started blaring in the speakers. The song was The Name of the Game by The Crystal Method. Chris visibly relaxed and his expression changed from one of fear to one of determination. He approached the next intersection and his SMS rang. He touched the screen and asked, "Who is this?" An exasperated voice came through the speakers over the music. "It's Lizzie, what intersection are you approaching?" Chris, having no idea, turned to his passenger, who whispered, "37th and Kansas Boulevard." Chris faced the microphone and said, "I'm coming up on 37th and Kansas." There was a pause on the other line. "Good. Get as far to the left as you can and go as fast as possible. Trust me." Chris did what he was told and moved to the left lane as close to the sidewalk as he could. He shifted into sixth and gripped the wheel with white knuckles. _What the hell are you going to do? _He was just past the light at the intersection when Lizzie and her Supra came leaping out from the intersection to his left and landed in front of him almost in line with his. Her car slid to the side from momentum. Directly behind her were four patrol cars that made the jump, but landed on top of their comrades who were tailing Chris. The jumble of police cars tumbled and rolled as metal compacted and split. "Whoooo!" he heard from the SMS. Chris leaned a bit closer to the mic attached to the SMS and said, "Okay, let's celebrate later, but now we need to get the hell away from here. Do you know a place that's close?" The Supra pulled in front of Chris. "I'll lead the way."

The two cars pulled into the front parking lot of a plain warehouse. Chris and Lizzie opened the doors and pulled their cars in. When they stepped out, Lizzie flicked on the fluorescent lights that were hanging from the ceiling. Sitting there were six beautiful cars. There was a gray RX8 with a wide body kit and a unique vinyl job. Next to it was a black Porsche Cayman with flames going along the body. To the right of that was a black Mitsubishi Eclipse (2005) with a wide body and a tiger on each side of it. After that was a blue Mustang GT (2005) with a split spoiler (Venom) on the back and a body kit (body kit 5) and a tribal design covering the entire car. There was a blacked out 350z and a green stock Supra.

Chris stood there, awestruck. "I think heaven just reached down and slapped me across the face." He looked around as the girl who he had rescued stepped out with the same expression as his. He turned to face Lizzie, "Whose cars are these? And whose place is this?" Lizzie walked up and said, Before that, I'll introduce myself properly to you and your…Guest? (she raised her eyebrow as she saw his passenger.) My name is Elizabeth Rodriguez, but most people call me Lizzie. Yours?" Chris shook her outstretched hand and replied, "Chris Evans." His passenger looked at them both and said, "Mia Townshend." Lizzie nodded and said, "Cool. Yeah, this safehouse used to belong to the last Most Wanted racer, but he left it and everything in it when he fled. I live about two blocks from here, so I saw him drive in and out of here often, so when he left, I found it unlocked and I made it my duty so see that it stayed in good hands. These were his cars, so I keep them in good condition. I figured that it was best to chill here until the heat dies down and maybe come out in the morning. Here, follow me." She led them up a small flight of stairs to what looked like a loft. There were some chairs, a mini-fridge, a table and a bed. They sat down in the chairs and Lizzie asked Chris, "Where are you from, Chris? It's obvious you aren't familiar with Rockport or you wouldn't be getting lost around Rosewood." Chris smirked and replied, "Thanks. I just drove all the way from Bayview, California. I left, eight days ago. It got too full of cops. They raided my house and I barely got out. I came looking for a racer that left for here a few months ago." Lizzie's eyes widened as she stood up and walked off to the minifridge, where there was a picture frame that she grabbed and brought back to the table. She set it facing up and oriented toward Chris. The picture inside had the Street King, Rachel Teller, another racer and… Chris. "I thought that I recognized you from somewhere. You knew him! Oh my God!" she exclaimed. "This must mean that you are, like, one of the best street racers in the world. I mean, if you got to hang around him in Bayview, you have to be good!" Chris grinned, a little embarrassed. "I wouldn't say I'm one of the best; I'm only nineteen and I've only been racing for two years. And _he_ (pointing at the King), the "Street King" was the best racer in Bayview by far. " Mia looked over at him and said, "What did you call him?" Chris pointed back at the picture. "Back in Bayview, we called him the Street King because he practically owned the streets." She nodded and replied. "I never knew that. And by the way, don't be so hard on yourself. You're a good driver for your age, because you were driving earlier like a racer of many years." Chris laughed to himself and stood up to walk to the railing of the loft. Looking over it at the cars, he stated, "I've been thinking that these couldn't possibly be his cars, because the designs aren't anything like his, well except for the Mustang, Z and the Supra. He was more into the old fashioned stripes or the tribal designs. These just aren't his style, so I guess he must have gotten them from pink slip races." He turned to face the two of him and asked, "Am I right?"

Surprisingly enough, Mia walked up and pointed to the Porsche, RX8, and the Eclipse. "These, are cars that belonged to past Blacklist members who are currently serving time in lockup. They were won from their previous owners during the races for their blacklist position. They were from some of the first blacklist racers he faced. The other ones he bought and built himself." Chris nodded and walked down to the warehouse floor and went over to a wall that had a list of fifteen names written with cars next to them. Most of the names were crossed out, but the one at the top was circled and had a BMW M3 GTR next to the name. "What is this," Chris asked, pointing at the list. Lizzie walked down with Mia after him, "That's the old Blacklist. All the ones that are crossed out are those he defeated and returned to cross out, he beat Razor and got the M3 back and was forced to take it when he left." Chris looked up at it intently. Lizzie stood beside him and said, "It would be nice to be up there, but I don't think it's worth the risk." Chris nodded and said, "I think it is." He walked back over to where the cars were.

He strode over to the RX8, opened the door, and looked inside. "Very nice. Six speed manual, naturally; custom gauges, a JL Audio system, SMS, a lot of other cool stuff." He closed the door and walked back to Lizzie and Mia. "I'm wondering if any of the top blacklist racers would have any idea as to where he is. If they do, I'm gonna need to get in contact with them and the only way I'm going to talk to them is if I get up there." He pointed at the blacklist and continued, "And that's exactly what I'm going to do."


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own any of the trademarked material in this story, Need for Speed is not owned by me. The songs and lyrics mentioned in this chapter are all owned and copyrighted by their respected owners. The lyrics of the songs are in bold. This is note based on real events; everything in this story is fictional**

Rockport Police Officer Daniel Travis sat in his patrol car with his partner, and brother, Thomas Travis. Tommy had just pulled out a box of donuts from a local shop. Daniel eased the car around the corner and stopped at the next red light. Ahead of him and past the stoplight was an onramp to the highway and to his left was the amphitheater. He grabbed a jelly filled donut and took a bite out of it. He sighed as he chewed on it. It was one of the longest stoplights in the entire area of Rockport. Tommy rolled down the window on the passenger side. His brother dropped a piece of trash out of the window and onto the ground. "You know that's a crime, Tom." He received a glare as his brother retorted, "Then just arrest me. It's not my fault that we wound up on the most boring shift for patrol." Daniel shook his head as his brother rolled the window back up. He let out another sigh and took another bite out of the donut.

He looked up in the rear view window and saw a blue Honda Civic pull up into the lane to their right. The driver side window rolled down and he could hear ACDC's Thunderstruck through the windows of his PC. A hand reached out of the window and opened the door up. A Caucasian guy stepped out and walked up to the window of the PC and rapped on it. His brother rolled down the window and asked in an annoyed voice, "Yeah, what do you want?" The man pulled a card out of his back pocket and handed it to Tommy. He noticed that the stranger's hands were gloved. The other guy walked back to his car and got back inside. Tommy rolled the window back up and held up the small notecard handed to him. It had only one word on the front of it: K1LL3R. He flipped the card over and read it aloud, "Dear Rockport PD, This is K1LL3R, I am the soon to be Most Wanted Racer. These streets will soon be ruled by me… and there's nothing you can do about it. So while you sit there and eat your donuts and patrol these streets now, keep in mind that it won't last for long. Sincerely, K1LL3R.

The car next them started to rev loudly. The driver looked over at them and nodded. "What's this guy doing?" asked Tommy. **"… Broke all the rules. Played all the fools. Yeah, Yeah, They, They blew all our minds! (three guitar strums.) And I was shaking at the knees! (four guitar strums) Could I come again please? (four guitar strums) Yeah the ladies were too kind! (four guitar strums) You've been… Thunderstruck! **

At that moment the light they were sitting at turned green and the Civic burned out, speeding forward. "Whoa! Hey!" Tommy yelled as the other driver peeled out. **Thunderstruck! **Daniel roared after him in the PC. **Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Thunderstruck! **The jelly donut fell and splattered on Daniel's lap as he sped after the guy.

**Oooh! Thunderstruck!** Chris grinned as he began his first purposeful police chase of his life. **And I was shakin at the knees! Could I come again please**? He sped around the looping highway entrance as the song hit the guitar solo. He hadn't purposefully picked the song, but it fit the occasion in an odd sort of way. **Said yeah, it's all right! We're doing fine. Thunderstruck! **He raced out of the loop at one hundred, loosely chased by the police car. As the song went on, his speed increased as the slower patrol car started to fall back. He gripped the wheel tighter with his gloved hands as he hit one fifty. It went against everything he had been taught during his racing career to purposefully engage in a police pursuit. He whipped past an SUV extremely closely. The bigger, top heavy vehicle tried to sharply turn away, but started to spin out. He saw it tip over in his mirror and grimaced at it, but he started to lose sight of the cop car as it disappeared in a mass of cars bumping and smashing into each other.** You've been THUNDERSTRUUUUUUUUUUCK!** As the song wound down, he couldn't see any glimpse of the cops.

He pulled off the highway when he reached Rosewood. He drove into the garage to be faced with Lizzie. She closed the door after him and waited as he opened the door of the Civic. As he stood up, he looked up to the loft, where he heard the midday news playing on a small TV there. She walked up the stairs to the loft, saying, "Well, your little escapade made it onto the news." She turned it up louder to where he could here it as he inspected his car for any damage. _"… And now in breaking news, a police chase ended terribly and the perpetrator escaped, leaving a massive pile up on the Northbound Downtown Interchange. The suspect drove a blue 1999 Honda Civic Coupe that had several aftermarket modifications such as bumpers and sideskirts. The police involved were caught up in the pileup and their car was totaled, leaving room for the suspect to get away. Oddly enough, the suspect left a calling card with a note and a callsign. In the note, the suspect called himself K1LL3R and said that he would rule the streets of Rockport. Rockport PD has put out a $50,000 bounty if anyone has any information that could lead to the arrest of the suspected driver."_

Lizzie raised one of her thin eyebrows as Chris looked up to her as he ascended the stairs to the loft. She said, "Two hundred fifty thousand bucks is a lot of money. I think you may have gotten the attention of Sonny. Here you go." She handed him a bottle of Coke. Chris thanked her for it and opened the cap with a hiss. He took a swig, which he almost choked on as Lizzie turned around and bent over to grab the remote for the television that was next to the actual flatscreen itself. He eyed her butt with teenage admiration which had still yet to mature. Even though she was more than likely close to his age, she was very mature in the areas that a single (or taken in some cases) guy looks for. She sat down in the chair next to his and watched a video of the accident and a video taken from the dashboard camera of the police car that chased him earlier. There was a ringing downstairs coming from the open door of the Civic. Chris ran downstairs and touched his SMS. It was a text message from Rog. It read "_Yo, it's Rog. I heard of a race that Sonny set up in the middle of Rosewood. You need to win it. You're gonna need to win three of these races to get to Sonny himself. I think you're set on bounty with that short little chase you had there. I'm gonna contact both Johnny and Lizzie soon for them to be there. See ya." _

Nearby Lizzie's Supra's SMS rang as she received a similar text. Chris opened the door to the garage and waved Lizzie out and followed her down the street. She led him to an intersection by a local gas station and bus station. There were six cars there at the intersection. Several of them Chris recognized, like Johnny's Eclipse and a red RX8 which Mia was standing by and one Toyota Celica that belonged to one of Sonny's proxies. The green car was stock on the outside except for the lime green metallic paint and Giannelle wheels. As Chris rolled up, with his windows down, he heard the proxy ask Johnny, "So is this your boy?" Johnny nodded and walked up to Chris's window and leaned in. "Yeah, Chris, please smoke this cocky bastard, he's really giving me a hard time over here." Chris nodded as he pulled into the parking lot of the gas station. As he filled his tank with the highest octane fuel he could find, Mia strutted up, leaned up to his right side, and whispered in his ear, "Come see me after this race. I've got a small present for you." Chris raised an eyebrow at this. He could see Johnny past her giving him the thumbs up. He smiled as the other racer proceeded to imitate the "Smack That". Mia walked off and stood next to her car. She bit her bottom lip and flashed an innocent smile his way. Chris studied her from a distance. She was a thin, loosely curly haired brunette who had full lips comparable to Angelina Jolee and a thin, angular jaw. She, in other words was hot.

While Chris was weighing his chances of getting with her (or on top of her), the pump clicked and shut off as his gas tank read full. He stepped back inside and keyed the ignition and parked next to Lizzie and another racer. Sonny's proxy guy walked up to them and explained the race. The large Asian had a rough accent that was all the more annoying as it was intimidating. "Okay, kids, this is gonna be a sprint race. You understand? No questions, Period. The reward is twelve hundred dollars. The buy in is three hundred for each racer. Now Sonny himself is judging this one, so at least try to go over a hundred. I don't want to win by a mile. Okay, so pay up and you'll get the track course sent to your SMS." Chris laughed to himself as he placed his three hundred in the pot. He drove around and out of the parking lot to the intersection. He stopped at the white line as the green Celica pulled up on his right. Behind him pulled up Lizzie and next to her was a short black man in a blue Chevy Cobalt SS. He nodded to Lizzie in his rear view mirror and received the same acknowledgement.

They all revved their engines as they waited for the light. The light turned green and they jumped forward, leaving tire marks on the asphalt. He drove around the first turn, just behind the Celica. The Proxy wasn't a bad driver… but he wasn't good either. Lizzie passed him on the second straight away. He glanced to his left, as he juked right of a passing minivan and saw the black dude in his Cobalt. He pushed his car even harder. _I'm not going to be second again. Sorry Lizzie._ He blew past her as he started to chase down the Celica. The SMS track led him onto a section of highway that led to Campus Circle. He slid into place behind the Celica as the headed westward around the huge circle. The track veered away from the circle toward the road that led to the golf course. There was a large U shaped turn that went around a large hill that separated the road from the other side. There was a narrow pass between them, but the Celica went around the road. Chris, however, plowed straight through the dirt path and drifted onto the road, in front of the Celica. He downshifted and then upshifted as he gained speed from the slide. He flew down hill past it. He emerged at a large highway intersection, which he blew through alongside Lizzie, who had also just passed the Celica. As they passed, the North and South lanes turned green and cars came out, and collided with the Cobalt. Chris accelerated down the narrow straight away and hit his NOS. He was thrown back against his seat and the world started ripping past. His Speedometer read 170…180…190…

There was a huge sweeping turn ahead that he blew past and he could see that the Celica began to fall back. His SMS told him that there was .1 miles left until his destination. He saw another intersection ahead and prayed. He rushed through the intersection and over the finish line, more than a car length ahead of Lizzie and more than four car lengths ahead of the Proxy. He doubled back around the block and coasted into the parking lot where Sonny and his crew had judged the outcome. Behind him drove Proxy and Lizzie. He parked and walked up to Sonny who had the pot. "So… Sonny, where's the money?" Sonny sighed and gave him the money as he started to yell at his crew member in some oriental dialect for losing. As he walked up to his car to dial Mia to see what she wanted to give him, Lizzie walked up.

"Good race there, new guy."

"Thanks. Not bad yourself."

"Hey, you know how I have been holding that safehouse for the Most Wanted, or until someone worthy comes along?"

"Yeah, what about it."

"Well I figured that you need a place to stay and you were, after all, friends with him, so you can have it along with the cars in there. I think it's the best thing to do."

Chris was taken aback. "Uh… Um… Thank you… A whole lot. You want to get like dinner or something… Because I guess I owe you now." He hadn't realized the last sentence had slipped out until it had been too late.

She thought for a second. "Dinner would be great, how about tomorrow night?"

"Tomorrow night. Tomorrow… Sure."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

She got into her car and drove off as a shocked Chris sat in his car and called Mia on the SMS. "Hey Mia, it's Chris. You wanted to see me?" There was a pause and some dialing on the other end. "Chris, meet me at the GPS coordinates I just sent you. I have a gift to give you. By the way, how did the race go?" Chris's GPS dinged as he received a text message. He opened it and there were latitude and longitude coordinates. "Yeah, I just got them. I'm on the way." He put the Civic in reverse and backed out of the parking lot and entered the coordinates into the GPS.

He was guided to the rear of the Rosewood police station. He drove up hesitantly as Mia came walking up to his passenger door. He opened it and she stepped in. "Drive slowly." He obeyed and went the speed limit past the station and to the safehouse, which was less than a mile away. When they stepped out of the Civic, Chris asked Mia. "What were you doing at the Police Department?" Mia pushed some of her curly brown hair from her face and looked up at him. "I was talking with an old friend who got me a small present for you." She pulled out a small sliding phone like device. "This is how you can check up on your new Rap Sheet. Watch this." She slid the small keyboard out and tapped the screen. The black screen flashed a green police shield and a box that requested the user ID and password. Mia typed in "Cross" for the user and wrote "CROSSISDABOMB". The screen went black for a second and then a list of names under the subcategory "Suspected Racers", that was right under Blacklist Racers. She scrolled down and selected a name at the very bottom of the list.

She tapped the name "K1LL3R" and a database sheet popped up. There were six menus. As she brought up his summary, which was severely short, Chris wondered why a street racer would have a contact inside of the very police department that was attempting to dismantle the street racing organization altogether. It was odd, yes, but he thought this Rap Sheet reader could really help him. She finished showing him how the device worked and handed it to him. He was surprised by how light the thing was and stowed it away in his pocket. "Thanks, I'll make sure it goes to some good use. You're awesome." He gave her a sincere smile and started to move back to his car. His SMS rang and he answered it as he motioned for Mia to get back in. "Yeah, this is Chris." He could here the screeching of tires. "Hey, this is Johnny. Come to 48th street and Lamblock Boulevard, it's another one of Sonny's races. You're gonna need two more to formally challenge him for his title. Hey, fill your NOS tanks and get out here. It's a drag race by the way, so be ready." He motioned again for Mia to get in and they drove out of the warehouse.

On the way to the location Chris stopped at a street racing store and bought a twenty pound can of Nitrous Oxide. At the destination, he popped his hood and reconnected the NO2 lines running to the engine to their ports. As Mia got out of the car, he lifted her seat cover and screwed in the large tank. He pumped the gas into the lines and lowered the cover back down. There was a soft hiss as the gas ran down the lines. He stood up and looked over at the group of cars lined up in the parking lot. There was a map layed over the hood of a lime green Celica that belonged to the other proxy of Sonny. Johnny was standing next to him studying the route for the race. As he walked up Johnny smiled and nodded upwards in greeting. Chris walked over with Mia at his side and looked over the map. Johnny explained it simply, "All that we have to do is get to the intersection and head east. There will be a grocery store a third of a mile down the road and that's where we will determine the victor and hand out the winnings." Chris smiled and said, "Easy enough. Let's get started."

Five minutes later he found himself at the stoplight of the intersection, waiting for the light to turn green. He pushed on the pedal and released, listening to the high powered whine of the engine. He looked to his right and saw Mia in the passenger seat. He revved the engine again. The light hit green and he floored the pedal. Soon enough he was in third gear, still accelerating and dodging in and out of traffic with a grin. He was in first and Johnny was just behind him. He went blasting past a minivan that honked at him as he went past. He shifted up to fourth and changed lanes to go around a dump truck. The asian chick in the car behind him was not a very good driver; she could not drive her 2004 Mustang GT worth a damn. He shifted into fifth. He tapped the button on the steering wheel and felt the acceleration from the NOS flowing into his engine. He saw the meter of the NOS on his dashboard start to go down. He flew over the finish line and cruised into the parking lot of the Publix a little ways ahead. There he was handed a thousand dollars and he left.

About a mile down the road Mia said, "Hey, can you drop me off at my place?" Chris being the polite guy he had been raise to be said, "Sure, where do you live?" He dropped her off and thanked her again for the Rap Sheet reader. As she walked up the stairs to her door, he couldn't help but make a double take. He shook his head and drove off. On the way back to the safehouse, he ran into another race. He stumbled on it by driving around a corner and into the parking lot of an Advanced Autoparts store. There were several tricked out cars congregating there. It was being held by a Hispanic guy with long hair. "Hey, man! What the hell do you think you're doing? You think you can just race with us?" Chris pulled three grand out of his wallet and flourished it. The guy's expression changed with the sight of the money. "Okay, if you want to give up those pretty greens, then be my guest. They lined up in a two by two formation outside of the parking lot and it was explained over the SMS "_Okay, this is a knockout race. Three laps; on each lap the person who finishes last gets booted. Simple enough. Download the route and get ready."_ Chris's SMS dinged as it downloaded the route and displayed it. He revved his engine yet again. The SMS counted down: 3… 2… 1… GO! He accelerated past the three other racers and cornered the turn, knowing fully that he would be racing against Sonny the next day...

Later that night he sat in the bed located in the loft and thought to himself, _Oh, crap! I don't have anything to wear to dinner with Lizzie tomorrow. Guess I'm gonna have to go shopping tomorrow after beating Sonny. Best not worry about it tonight. _

Mia walked through the hallways of the main downtown Rockport Police Department building. She was there to pick her car up from impound and to talk to Lance Corporal Calhoun who was second in command when it came to the street racing control. The only one above her was Sergeant Cross himself who was off on a "vacation" as he was off doing his part-time bounty hunter thing in search of the "King" as Chris called him. She strode through the halls as normal patrol officers did complete turn arounds as she passed. She was still in her civilian clothes, which meant miniskirt and skintight spaghetti straps. There was a slight smirk as she noted the attention she was receiving.

She walked up to the office labeled CALHOUN and rapped on the glass window with her knuckles. There was a curt "Come in!" she turned the knob and walked into the medium sized office. There was an attractive black-haired woman flipping through files seated at a wooden desk at the other end of the office. She looked up and removed here reading glasses as Mia seated herself in one of the uncomfortable chairs in front of the desk. The door automatically closed as the woman put away her files and brought out several new ones and laid them ceremonially on the desk top. She looked up into Mia's eyes and asked, "Officer Townshend, why are you here?"

Mia was taken aback by the question. It took her a second to hesitantly reply. "You requested me. That's why I'm here." The other woman flashed a sarcastic smile and replied, "No, not why are you here in my office. Why are you a police officer?" Mia responded, "Well, I joined the force to do some good for the community."

The woman dropped her smile and said more aggressively, "Is that what you call your little accident a week ago when you 'lost' the most wanted racer in all of Rockport? If you ask me, I think that you had a little fling with the criminal and you developed a soft spot for him. I think that's why you didn't have the guts to bring him down. If it were up to me, I would see that you would never be on the force again and that no government agency would ever hire you. I would see to it that you would be arresting for aiding and abetting a criminal. Be thankful that Sergeant Cross was good enough to forgive you and let you keep your position as an undercover officer."

"Now," she continued, "I called you in here to ask what you have managed to scrape up from your last little vacation in the underworld of Rockport racing." Mia regained her composure and lifted her head as she said, "I believe that I have first of all found your K1LL3R and that I believe that he could be a valuable asset to the department. He is a good racer who seems to have ties to the past most wanted racer."

This sparked a curiosity in Officer Calhoun's attitude. She leaned forward, "Tell me more…"

Chris stood in a department store looking for clothes suitable for taking a girl to diner. He was looking at a casual pair of jeans paired with a white long-sleeved shirt with an eagle stenciled onto the left breast. He wasn't quite sure what to wear so he bought several pairs of jeans and even some black dress slacks. For a shirt he bought several polo's and several long-sleeved semi-dressy shirts. He paid for the hundred fifty dollars worth of clothes and walked out to his car. He drove until he found a dry cleaner shop close to the safehouse and he paid for them to have the shirts ironed along with the slacks by the end of the night. As he walked out to his car, the SMS which he had stored in his pocket rang. He couldn't pull it out fast enough so he received a voice message. He sat in his car and tapped the screen for it to play it. "_Listen, punk, if you want to mess with me, then let's take it to the streets. Meet me at the entrance to the university. That is if you want to be humiliated… Oh, and by the way, bring the pink slip to your ride, 'cause I'll be needing it for my new ride."_

He sat down in his car and drove to where Sonny told him. As he neared the location, two green Celicas drove up alongside him very closely and led him to the red paved brick courtyard in front of the main entrance to the university. There stood Sonny, leaning against the stock '99 Eclipse that belonged to him. Sonny was eating a burger as he waited for Chris to drive up. Chris put his car into park and walked to the middle of the courtyard and looked at Sonny. As he stood there, he was purposefully bumped into by both the proxies who walked over to Sonny.

Sonny stood up, balled up the wrapper of his burger and threw it onto the ground as he walked to meet Chris. Chris was unmoving as Sonny strode up and got in his face. "So the new guy thinks he can play with the big shots now? I saw that little stunt you pulled on the highway yesterday; it was nice… but not as good as me." Chris leaned over the shorter Asian and got in _his_ face, "I can't wait to wipe that egotistically smug grin off your face. You have no idea." On that note he walked to his car and started it up. He smiled to himself as Sonny was left standing awkwardly in the middle and then stormed off to his ride. Sonny drove to the intersection exiting the courtyard and Chris pulled up around to his right side. A proxy walked between the cars and collected the pink slips for the cars and wager, which Sonny set to eight thousand. _This is literally all the money I have. Looks like I'm going to be forced to win this one. _He dug out the money and handed it to the guy. The route was explained to them by one of the proxies and it concerned Chris, because it involved going directly past the Rosewood Police Station. He put it out of his mind and focused on the race ahead of him. The first race was to be a drag race and then a block down the road the second race would start and a sprint race would commence that would cross in front of the police station. For the most part the drag was a straight shot to the end, so it would be fairly easy.

The light turned green for them and Chris floored it. As he burned out from the start he had an immediate advantage over Sonny: He was actually good at drag racing. Sonny had a late start that set him back a lot. The blacklist member didn't think to draft off of Chris to gain first, but stayed in his lane and tried to outrun a car already in a higher gear. Chris zipped through traffic, leaving his rival in the dust. As he sped across the line at one hundred eighty five a team of Sonny's filmed the ending of the drag for future review. He slowed down to a stop by the next stoplight and waited for twenty seconds as Sonny tried to catch up. When Sonny reached the light, he didn't look over at Chris; he just waited for the signal.

Once again as the light turned green, Chris launched off first, but his lead was nulled by a shortcut that Sonny made by cutting across a parking lot and in front of him. "OH HELL NO!" he yelled at his rival. He shifted up and sped along side Sonny and whipped onto the interstate which would take him to the next section of the race with Sonny biting at his heels. They roared off the interstate onto the road that ran directly past both the safehouse and police station. _Looks like he actually can take care of an engine, just not the outside of his cars, because he is still with me. Just barely._ He zoomed past the police station and he saw in his mirror as five police cruisers pulled out after him and Sonny. He hit his brakes as a garbage truck pulled in front of him and he crossed the median into head on traffic to get around it. Sonny tried to do the same but he drifted wide and clipped several parking meters on the sidewalk edge with his bumper. One of the meters flew into a tire on the garbage truck and the truck turned sharply right and flipped onto its side, blocking off the road.

He tapped his brakes as he rounded a corner and accelerated out of the curve at well over one hundred. He tapped the SMS for voice commands and said, "Conference call: Contacts: Rog, and Johnny." Both people picked up the call as he drifted around another corner, still well ahead of Sonny. "Hey guys, I'm gonna need someone to pick up my next car." Rog replied over the line, "Sure thing, are you done racing Sonny?" Chris shifted up and turned left around a curve. "Give me two minutes and I'll get back to you on that." Rog chuckled and finished his part, "Good luck man, see ya in five minutes." There was a click as he hung up.

"So, what's this I hear about you taking Lizzie out on a date?" This caught Chris off guard and he swerved to avoid colliding with a sedan. He looked down for a second at the SMS and swerved again to avoid a pickup truck. "Can we talk about this later? Now is not a good time." Johnny laughed, "Ok, good enough, but you're fessing up at the finish line." Chris bared his teeth as he flew through a red light and the intersection following it. "Fine. Fine." The SMS reported there was only a half mile left in the race. Sonny was a good five hundred feet behind him as they ripped toward the line. They hit the final quarter mile straight away stretch and both hit their NOS. This did nothing but give Chris a larger lead because he had a much bigger and efficient Nitrous system attached to his engine. Sonny's dry shot Nitrous system went out in five seconds while Chris's was still keeping him pinned against his seat. Chris flew past the few spectators and proxies of Sonny who were lining the road's sidewalks at the end. Sonny finished a full four seconds behind him at a much slower speed as he coasted to the ending point where he would be forced to pay up with both money and his ride.

Chris did a full lap around the block and drove into the lot for his reward. As he parked and exited his vehicle, the entire crowd turned to face him. He walked up to one of the proxies and was given his money and pinkslips. He turned to face Sonny and said, "Now for the keys…" Sonny held up his hands and said, "Fine, but next time I'll be taking your keys for a change." At that moment Johnny and Rog drove into the lot with a tow truck behind them that was driven by one of the other racers Chris had seen in Camden. Sonny pulled the keys out of his pocket and dropped them into Chris's open hand. He slinked off to one of his proxies's cars. Chris grinned as he opened up his new car. He drove it up to the tow truck and handed off the keys to the other racer.

As he walked off to his civic a thin, busty Asian woman walked up to him and handed him a slip of paper that had three different phone numbers scrawled onto it. She leaned up and whispered, "If you get bored, you can give me and the girls a call." She motioned over her shoulder to two other women who looked as attractive as her. Chris thanked her, blushing the entire time and walked off to his car. The woman strutted off to join her friends as he exited the parking lot with Rog, Johnny, and the truck in tow.


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own any of the trademarked material in this story, Need for Speed is not owned by me. The songs and lyrics mentioned in this chapter are all owned and copyrighted by their respected owners. The lyrics of the songs are in bold. This is not based on real events; everything in this story is fictional**

Lizzie Rodriguez stood on the corner of her apartment complex's sidewalk, feeling used and embarrassed. _Never again am I gonna be stood up like this._ she thought as she kicked an empty soda can that was on the pavement. Her date was fifteen minutes late without even a single word from him saying he would be late or not. A breeze fluttered her dress and she shivered, deciding she would head back inside. _Damn, I even put this stupid dress on, thinking I'd be in a warm restaurant or something, not still standing on this sidewalk. _She turned around and began walking back to her apartment.

She only got a few paces away before she heard her phone ring in her purse. She pulled it out and scowled as she answered the call. "You've got some nerve to call this late in the game," she answered angrily before the other could speak. There was a moment of pause before Chris's voice flooded over from the other end of the line, "Lizzie, I'm sorry I'm late, but I need to know where exactly you are."

She held her phone back and looked at it for a moment, angrily. "You know damn well where I am. I'm at the corner of my apartment complex." Another pause, then he responded, cursing under his breath, "Good, I'll be there in thirty seconds," the sound of police sirens could be heard on the other end, "Make that forty five seconds. I'll see you in a bit, bye." She bared her teeth out of frustration as the connection ended with a click. About ten seconds later the sounds of tires screeching and police sirens drifted faintly over to her ears. She leaned out from the sidewalk to see what was approaching.

Off in the distance two pairs of headlights flashed into view. They seemed to be dodging in and around each other. A couple seconds later the shapes of a police cruiser and a Civic formed behind the headlights as the cruiser smashed into a storefront and the Civic sped up to the curb she was standing at. The passenger door popped open to reveal an exasperated Chris and the blue lit interior of the car.

Chris's face visibly changed and his jaw dropped slightly when he saw her. He sat and stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. She sat down in the car and glanced over at him, who still had the blank look on his face. "I'm so sorry for being late, I was held up, almost literally… and you are by far the best thing I've seen today… wow, you look absolutely gorgeous…" She glanced out the back window and saw the police cruiser was backing out of the store it had crashed into. "Thanks, you look good too, now let's get out of here, fast." Chris snapped out of the stupor and grabbed the wheel with both hands and said, "Right. Tally-ho."

*\\\\\*/*

Half an hour later, Chris was sitting at the most expensive Italian steakhouse in rockport, according to his GPS. He glanced nervously out the window, then back at the fantastically gorgeous woman across the table from him. He took a bite out of the bread on the table and watched as she did the same. "I can honestly say that my other first dates have had slightly better beginnings than this. I'm sorry again for being late." She glanced up and brushed a strand of hair from her face and said, "Stop apologizing, you've got a legitimate excuse for being late. So, how'd that race with Sonny go?"

Chris grinned at the question, "Well, I have a new car now, a few thousand more dollars and I'm sittin at the premier Italian restaurant looking at a gorgeous woman, if that's what you were asking." She flashed a small smile at the comment and then raised her glass of wine, "Well then," she began, clinking her glass against his, "To being on the blacklist."

*\\\\*/*

The next day, Chris scored a job as a mechanic at a local automotive paint and body shop. He started that day by touching up the paint on some really short guy's jacked up Ford F350 pickup truck. Several hours later, he was released and headed to the safehouse, where he crashed onto the couch and pulled out the Rap Sheet Reader and checked out the current bounty on his Honda. Apparently, if the reader was correct, the "HEAT" rating on his car was brought up to the point where now undercover officers were supposed to report it immediately. He frowned at the screen and shut down the reader. It would make life just a little more difficult for a little while. He shrugged as he glanced past the railing at the host of cars down below. He smiled as he stood up and walked over to the small basket of keys and pulled one out. He tapped the door unlock button on the remote and grinned, deviously as the Mustang GT below chirped and flashed its lights in response… "Maybe a little heat isn't too bad after all." He said as he began the descent to the warehouse floor…

*\\\*/*

Later that day, a thin tattooed man walked out of the Rockport City Police lockup and into the sunlight that cut like a blade between the skyscrapers. The warmth of the sun reached his scalp quickly through his short buzz cut. He looked up at the sun and scowled, viciously. He turned on his phone and dialed a number. He brought it up to his ear. The person on the other end answered. "Yo, Rog. Me and my boys want back in. I know he left town, which leaves me at second on the list, which now leaves me at first again… You know exactly who this is. Alright, I'm on my way over to sort it out. Fine, I'll come alone." He ended the call and turned back around to look one more time at the hole that had eaten up two days that were very important to him. The sunlight shone through the back of his white shirt and illuminated the huge tattoo that spanned from shoulder to shoulder. It read "RAZOR"


End file.
